A Minor Incident
by fakebrit
Summary: Dramione. Hermione is cutting and clearly needs help, but only a few people, and none of them close friends, know. It is up to Draco, always a grudging hero at best, to save her. Disregards HBP.
1. And the Blood Runs Crazy with Giant Stri

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Characters, location, world etc belongs to JK Rowling and the title belongs to Badly Drawn Boy.

**A/N: Hi! Soooooooo I wrote a story like a bajillion years ago for Tamora Pierce and I just don't recommend it, but now it's summer so I thought I'd give writing a shot again. Over the past year or so I have found myself converted from a Ron/Hermione shipper to a complete and total Dramione fan by all the absolutely brilliant writers out there. So I figured I'd go the Dramione route. The title comes from the song "A Minor Incident" by Badly Drawn Boy, from the soundtrack for the movie "About a Boy".Thanks for reading and please review!**

Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, stared at herself in the mirror. The loud voices of her parents echoed from downstairs, hurling angry insults at each other. She was pretty sure she could hear the word "ferret" in there. She chuckled derisively to herself as she thought of Draco Malfoy, and from there her thoughts led her to school- home, as she now thought of it. She doubted anyone she knew would recognize her right now. Her hair, usually wild and out of control, but at least clean and shining, was now one big matted, tangled knot, and the roots were starting to get greasy. Her usually bright brown eyes were currently dull and bloodshot, surrounded by puffy red skin. Hermione, like many girls, was not a pretty cryer.

She continued to search her own eyes in her reflection, looking desperately for a glimmer of hope. But there was none. She looked down at the Xacto knife in her hand, the one she used for scrapbooking when she was home during the summer. She made a scrapbook every year of her life at Hogwarts but hadn't started yet this summer- she had, after all, only gotten home yesterday. Her eyes darted down to the knife again. It was gleaming, the sharp edge catching the light and reflecting it into the mirror, where the light was refracted once again into Hermione's swollen eyes. She glanced between herself and the knife, herself and the knife. And then slowly, very deliberately, she raised the knife to her arm. But not her wrist- no, it would be seen there. She needed to feel right now, but she wasn't a masochist, and she refused to wear long-sleeved shirts all through the rest of the long humid summer. Even now, performing possibly the most irrational act of her life, Hermione thought things through.

She raised the sharp blade to her inner upper arm, where she could hide any scars against her body should anyone look her way. She took a deep breath, wondering how she had gotten to this point. But really, she knew. The knife was resting on her skin now, and as her mantra whirled around her head, she pressed.

_Stupid…_

The knife skimmed along her skin but didn't break it.

…_and fat…_

She brought it back to where it had been and pressed a little harder, and she could feel her skin tearing a little.

…_and ugly._

She ran the knife over the same spot, and finally beads of deep crimson blood welled up, a blessed relief. Merlin, it felt so good!

_Stupid…_

Eager to continue, she brought the knife to a different point and pushed down harder than she had before. Warm blood seeped out of the crack and she sat there, breathing hard.

…_and fat…_

She continued, now frantically ripping at her skin, hoping the pain inside would stop when the physical pain set in.

…_and ugly._

But it didn't.


	2. When the World and I were Young, Just Ye

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, not mine. It's all J.'s, except the title, which is Badly Drawn Boy's.

**A/N: OMGZ I'M SO FREAKING HAPPY!!! PEOPLE ACTUALLY HAVE READ/ENJOYED THIS STORY THUS FAR! Thank you so much to ****xNicoletta****, ****MrsBlaCKwIfeY****, and ****ShellyHale**** who reviewed and everyone who favorited it or added it to their alerts. It means so much. I hadn't actually gotten what people said when they said they lived from review to review but now I kinda do… is it pathetic that I stayed at home and watched the story traffic and kept checking my email about reviews and alerts the whole first night after I posted the prologue? Cos I was THAT excited. And for some reason I am ridiculously happy that someone from Sweden read my story… that just sounds so cool. Well, without further ado, here is the next chapter. Thank you so so so so so so so much for reading and please leave a review, it will make me super duper happy!**

When Hermione woke up in the morning, the first thing she felt was a mild burning in her arm, and her actions from the night before all came back to her. She had been afraid last night that she would regret having cut herself, but she felt strangely calm- more at peace than she had in months. She got up, showered, and dressed, careful to wear a shirt that covered her fresh wounds. It wasn't hard. She congratulated herself on another well-thought out plan- she knew it had been smart to cut higher up, so that a baggy t-shirt would cover any noticeable blemishes on the creamy skin of her underarm.

An owl came knocking at her window- correspondence from Harry, and the Daily Prophet. She sat down to answer the letter, opening it anxiously.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Hope all is well with you. You're so lucky to be able to go home to your parents, the Dursleys are driving me crazy. At least Dudley is leaving me alone this year, he's far too busy with his new girlfriend. But enough of my complaining. How are you doing? I barely saw you the last few weeks of school, after you broke up with Ron. Sorry about that, by the way. I know I was being a bit of a git, ignoring you and all, but Ron just needed someone to stop him from doing something stupid, you know? Anyway, not sure if you'll be coming to the Burrow this year after everything, but if you're not, the two of us should definitely meet up, alright?_

_Harry_

Hermione sat back and exhaled a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She really had been afraid that Harry had taken Ron's side permanently after the ugly breakup that finally broke the Golden Trio. Ironic really, that teenage hormones had managed to separate the three of them, when Voldemort had tried so hard to do so. She wouldn't have blamed Harry if he had decided to permanently break off their friendship, she supposed. He couldn't have known what had happened- she doubted Ron had told him. It must have seemed to Harry that Hermione just broke up with Ron completely out of the blue, on a whim. Hermione's mind drifted back to the late April afternoons that had undone the relationship she and Ron had spent years cultivating, the relationship she had always secretly assumed would end in marriage and three kids.

_It was a steamy afternoon at Hogwarts, unnaturally warm and humid for the usually chilly school. She and Ron were having a picnic in a secluded spot around the lake. They were having fun, teasing each other, eating the food Hermione had very politely requested from Dobby, and occasionally kissing. They were kissing deeply when Ron reached his hands under her shirt. At first she didn't mind- they had been going out for nearly a month, after all, and she wasn't a complete prude- but when he started pulling off her shirt she started getting a bit uncomfortable. And when he started taking off her shorts, she felt like protesting, but she _didn't_. And she hated herself for that. _

_She hadn't wanted to have sex with Ron. She had known she wasn't ready, that she hadn't liked him quite that much. But she was far too afraid of what he thought. She didn't want to make anything awkward between them- she hated awkwardness more than anything else- and she was afraid that their emotional relationship would never progress if Ron was constantly pressuring her and distracted by his desire for a physical one. And besides, she didn't want him going back to Lavender just because she wasn't willing to sleep with him. She already knew Parvati and Lavender thought her arrogant and cold for being smart- she didn't need the reputation of a prude on top of that._

_So she didn't say anything, she just lay there, as Ron pounded into her, staring at the sky above her and figuring it would all be over soon. And, to be honest, it was. Until the next time. _

_Hermione thought it had been pretty obvious that she hadn't enjoyed sleeping with Ron, but apparently he had, because just two days later, there he was, undressing her yet again. And this time, when she tried to say something, finally ready to stand up for what she wanted, Ron had the audacity to tell her she had already given it all away, she was already used goods, what did it matter now if they fucked like rabbits? Hermione stormed off, insulted beyond words that Ron- her boyfriend in addition to one of her best friends- had just called her used goods. To her face. _

_She broke up with him after a long week of avoiding him, telling him she thought it best if they stayed friends. _

"_But Hermione," he said, "I thought it was going so well. I really liked you. You're beautiful and sexy and everything I've ever wanted."At first he tried to win her with words, but when it became clear she wasn't changing her mind he got angry. "I left Lavender for you!" He raised his hand to hit her, and in that moment, Hermione knew Ron had never been the right guy for her. _

Hermione slipped out of her memory and dashed off a response to Harry, telling him that she sympathized with him over the Dursley situation, that of course she didn't hold his reaction to her and Ron's breakup against him, and that she would love to meet him in muggle London someday, because yes, she would be steering well clear of the Burrow that summer.

She shuddered to think about how Mrs. Weasley would react to Hermione after breaking up with her son. Molly was a reasonable person, but still, Ron was her son. She just hoped she wouldn't lose Ginny too, as they had been growing closer every year and Hermione now counted her as her closest girlfriend.

After flipping through the Daily Prophet ("Ha!" she thought when she saw that the Chudley Cannons had lost. "Take that, Ron!"), Hermione headed downstairs for breakfast and to say hello to her parents. She had been in better spirits after receiving Harry's letter, but the second she entered the kitchen, all warm and fuzzy feelings deserted her. She greeted her parents cordially, giving each a quick peck on the cheek. Jeanette Granger was tall and remarkably slender, with silky chestnut hair Hermione would have killed for, and Hermione's deep chocolate eyes. Richard Granger looked rather similar to his wife, tall and thin. It was clear that Hermione had gotten her hair from him- but while the light brown curls made him look young, they just looked frizzy on his daughter.

Hermione popped a piece of bread in the toaster, hoping for a quick escape. But alas, no such luck.

"Hermione, darling, are you really having toast? You know that cereal is so much healthier for you. And I'm not saying you need to diet or anything, but really you should try to keep your weight down this summer. Bikini season and all, you know," commented Mrs. Granger. Hermione shot her mother an incredulous look and went to get the butter out of the fridge. As she ate, her parents grilled her on her schoolwork. Hermione knew they meant well, but all this went beyond benevolent interest. Her parents were obsessed with her grades- not with what she learned, but what she earned.

After an hour or so, her parents dissolved into bickering about whether or not she ought to go to a muggle uni at the end of the coming year, at which time she would have completed her Hogwarts education. "Not bloody likely," she muttered under her breath as she crept up the stairs into the refuge of her room. She flopped herself down on her large bed with its pink quilt, the one she hated, with all the flowers, and stared at the pink ceiling she also hated, and sighed at this house that she hated. And she had a sudden urge to feel the sharp bite of the knife again, to welcome the hot pain that was such a release.


	3. Her Eyes Like Windows, Tricklin' Rain

Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's, except the title which is Badly Drawn Boy's.

**A/N: Hi! Thank you so much to those of you who are reading this! I was so excited, I got 7 whole reviews on the last chapter! Which seems like a lot, at least to me. Thank you more than I can ever say to ****xNicoletta****, ****ShellyHale****, ****MrsBlaCKwIfeY****, ****voldyismyfather****, ****Maya901****, ****Katie-Lyn Della Robia****, and ****Ninianna Simms**** for reviewing! And also to everyone who added it to favorites or alerts. Your positive responses inspire me to keep writing! But I also would totally welcome constructive criticism, so even if you absolutely loathe this, please write me a review and tell me why you don't like it. Thanks a bunch, and on with the story!**

The rest of Hermione's summer passed in a similar manner. She spent much of her time in her room, sleeping, reading or just thinking. And working on summer homework, of course. Her course load for the next year was heavy, with NEWT level Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Astronomy. Although she would have no need to use a time turner, Hermione would have very few free periods this year and therefore wanted to get ahead on work.

However, Hermione could not live in her room, much as she wished she could. Meals became torture for her, and she started skipping breakfast and sometimes lunch as well in efforts to avoid her parents. For with her parents lay the roots of her problems. The loved her, she was pretty sure. They certainly cared for her to some extent, for they frequently threw money her way- not that she used any of it. But they seemed positively incapable of realizing how unhappy they made her.

For every conversation seemed to revolve around her inadequacies. Often it was about going to a Muggle uni, since that Hogwarts school couldn't possibly have taught her anything worth knowing. (Apparently the fact that she was top of her class, a position she worked so hard to achieve, meant nothing to them). Her weight and the food she ate was a frequent topic of conversation. Or sometimes they talked- argued, to be more precise- about what was to be done with Hermione's hair. Hermione had grown up living with taunts about her hair, and had finally made her peace with it. She had discovered a few products that made it close to manageable, and she was even starting to think that it might compliment the shape of her face. But her mother was having none of it.

"Hermione, dear," she started one morning, "I really do wish you would allow me to fix up that hair of yours. It's a mess- no, don't give me that look- and you might actually look fairly attractive if you got it permanently straightened or something of the sort. Money's not a problem, darling, we can afford to fix these things."

Hermione gave her mother one of her looks, the one that had Harry, Ron, and even Draco Malfoy shaking in their boots, the one that said, "I am Hermione Granger and don't even THINK about messing with me right now unless you feel like getting hexed so bad you can do nothing but gibber like an idiot for the next week." But it was lost on Jeanette. "Mum," started Hermione, "I really think it's alright. It's only hair. I don't want it changed, it's a part of me."

But Jeanette kept on pushing it. And as she did, Hermione kept retorting with less and less fire, retreating further and further into herself. As her mother made a comment about how unappealing her hair looked with the roundness of her cheeks, Hermione finally turned towards the stairs and said in a deadly calm voice, "It's not happening, Mother. That's the end of this discussion."

But as soon as she made it to her room, Hermione collapsed sobbing on the floor. _Stupid and fat and ugly. Stupid and fat and ugly. Stupid and fat and…_ the words swirling round her head, and her sudden and intense urge to cut herself into a euphoric oblivion, were interrupted by a tapping at her window. She looked up to see an owl she didn't recognize, a beautiful brown bird. She slowly forced herself to stand up and let the owl in. She was somewhat surprised, but not shocked, to see that the handwriting on the outside of the piece of parchment belonged to Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin in her year.

As recently as one year ago, Hermione would have been nervous and confused to be receiving a letter from Daphne, a notoriously intelligent and reserved Slytherin. However, over the course of the last year, the two had grown to be close friends. It was all as a result of a new literature course Hogwarts had decided to offer last year. It had been taken by an eclectic group of only a few students- from Gryffindor, Hermione herself, Seamus Finnegan, and Lavender Brown; from Hufflepuff Hannah Abbott, Ernie MacMillan; from Ravenclaw Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst; and a larger contingent from Slytherin made up of Daphne, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and none other than Draco Malfoy.

It had been a strange group of people, but over the course of the class, they had grown closer than they had in the previous five years. The class had been centered around discussion, not lectures from teachers, which was a new experience for the students, used to classes taught by teachers like Professor Binns, who gave long boring speeches, and Professor McGonagall, who gave short fairly interesting speeches, and then allowed them to practice magic on their own. But this class had little to do with magic, and more about appreciating the cultural contributions of the wizarding world, and was based largely on opinion. Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher, had taught it, but she had usually simply assigned reading, then mediated the discussion- and arguments- that arose concerning the previous night's work.

Somewhere along the way, personal views had come out, and with personal views came more personal relationships. Daphne and Hermione, along with Mandy Brocklehurst, became fast friends. They were all three of them very clever, but in addition to talking about more esoteric topics, found they had a lot in common as people. And that was something Hermione had never had before.

Sure, she was best friends with Harry and Ron, and felt close to Ginny. But she was friends with Harry and Ron practically out of habit by sixth year, and her friendship with Ginny was more or less one of convenience. Never before had she had friends, who were girls, who were her own age, who she actually felt close to. She cherished their bond. In fact, she cherished her relationship with everyone in that class. Even Draco Malfoy wasn't as bad as she had imagined. To be sure, he was an arrogant prat, but he wasn't pure evil. And he was actually quite funny when he chose to be. And not all that bad-looking either, come to think of it… but mostly he was just an arrogant prat. But a tolerable one.

Even so, when Daphne wrote to her wondering if she wanted to meet up, Hermione wasn't unsurprised. Actually, she was ridiculously happy that she wanted their friendship to continue- Hermione had been worried that the house differences would prevent their relationship from existing once they weren't in literature class together. And just that one hand reaching out was enough to put Hermione in a deliriously happy mood, and all of a sudden the world seemed better to Hermione, all the colours brighter. That one letter was enough even to remove the thought of cutting from her mind. At least for a bit.


	4. Somedays aren't Yours at All, They Come

**Disclaimer: It's not mine. Obviously. **

**A/N: Hello hellooooooooo. Thanks to the reviewers from last chapter: ****MrsBlaCKwIfeY****, ****McFressie****, ****ShellyHale****, ****Katie-Lyn Della Robia****, ****Randomenated-Cullen, scarredprincess****, ****R.****, and ****seriana14****. And of course, to anyone who favorite/alerted etc etc blah blah blah. You all get it. Thanks for reading. ALSO. I decided to go back and name every chapter with a song title. Just my way of spreading brilliant music throughout the world. And also, I just get confused because they're all one off the chapter number assigned by ffnet because of the bloody prologue. They won't necessarily mean anything in conjunction with the story. But then again, they might. Haven't decided yet. I'll think about it as I write this chapter. Which is a bit of a filler so isn't that interesting but is kind of necessary…Really REALLY sorry about the wait, I started this chapter before I went to Ireland for two weeks but I didn't get it done on time. And then I've just been busy. I know I'm full of bogus excuses. Alrighty, I'm done babbling to myself now. (I miss blogging. I used to write pages and paaaaaaaages of nonsense, and people actually bothered reading it. But alas, my younger brother found it sooooo…). Enjoy. **

Cutting continued to be Hermione's escape as her friendships crumbled before her eyes.

She saw Harry once or twice, but conversation was strained as they desperately tried to avoid talking about Ron. Since almost every experience they had shared had occurred in the presence of their red-headed friend, this severely limited their dialogue. Harry had frequently been forced to act as a go-between for Hermione and Ron, whose explosive tempers had often pushed them apart, but this time was different. This wasn't a fight-that's-actually-flirting-and awkward-teenage-jealousy, this was a fight-that-means-the-end-of-this-friendship. And that put Harry in a rather unfortunate position. Which was regrettable, because Harry was just plain bad at handling unfortunate situations involving people-to-people issues. He could handle Lord Voldemort any day, but he was incapable of fixing the newly made rift between his two best friends. The few times they had met up, they had a rushed tea and quickly excused themselves. Hermione doubted Harry even told Ron he was speaking to her.

Meanwhile, Hermione's friendship with Daphne was also grinding to a halt. Daphne and Mandy had spent two weeks together at Daphne's summer home in France, and whilst Hermione knew she could never have gone since she was a Muggle-born and Daphne a pureblood, it still hurt. The three of them had met up once, and Daphne and Mandy had spent the whole afternoon sharing inside jokes. Hermione declined every invitation after that, preferring instead to wallow in her misery by herself.

And wallow she did. She spent hours and hours locked in her room listening to music and crying. She lost an alarming amount of weight, but her parents, if they noticed- which was doubtful- said nothing.

She was cold, all the time. It was the hottest summer in years, but still Hermione was constantly shivering. She wore sweatpants and sweatshirts around the house, and wouldn't even venture into the supermarket because of the air conditioning. The only thing that warmed her up was the heat of the blade against her skin. And so she cut. The cuts didn't even heal before she ripped off the scabs with another slash across the once smooth skin now marred with permanently semi-healed slices.

The only high point of her summer came towards the end. It was a steamy early- August day, and Hermione was sweating even as she felt chilled to her very core. An owl knocked on her window, and she groaned. "Not another owl from Harry," she mumbled to herself. "I'm not in the mood to deal with him right now." However, it was not Hedwig, but a school owl. She leapt up, her interest finally piqued after two long months of complete apathy. She tore open the envelope to find not only the annual book lists, but also a Head Girl badge, just as she had hoped. There was an accompanying letter.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_Congratulations on your appointment as Head Girl. Your unwavering dedication to both your schoolwork and the wellbeing of others has contributed to your new post. It is expected that you will maintain these important traits in addition to completing your duties in the coming year. Your presence is requested in the prefect section of the Hogwarts Express on September 1__st__, where you will brief the prefects on their duties. _

_Enjoy the rest of your summer._

_Sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

Hermione smiled to herself as she put the badge and letter in her trunk along with her other school things. She had been packed for days now, excited to return to Hogwarts and get out of the oppressive household. She was sure Harry would be more talkative once they were at school together, and she looked forward to spending time with Ginny. Maybe she could even fix things between her and Ron. Most of all, she hoped that Daphne and Mandy would become less distant once they were in classes together. And being Hermione, she was excited to be learning again. She had spent a great deal of time alone that summer, and whilst much of that time had been spent wallowing, Hermione had read extensively, even venturing out of the house on a few occasions to Flourish and Blotts and the Ministry of Magic's vast library, most of which was open to the wizarding public. Nonetheless, she couldn't wait for real lessons to start.

When September 1st rolled around, Hermione was more than ready. She felt like the two and a half months she'd been home had actually been two and a half years, and she wanted nothing more than to escape the prison that was her house. She woke up early, before seven. She loaded her trunk into the car, and waited. And waited. By the time the Grangers finally left at 9:45- with not all that much time to spare- Hermione was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The entire morning had been one battle after another, about what Hermione was wearing, about the quickest route to the station, about whether Hermione was coming home for Christmas, and whether Richard looked "nice" enough to accompany Jeanette and Hermione to the station. The second they got there, Hermione jumped out of the car outside of the station and grabbed Crookshanks and her trunk, eager to get away. Her parents were no more subtle in their desire to get away, not even bothering to get out of the car to peck her on the cheek. They drove away swiftly, and Hermione didn't even watch them go.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting to control the wave of loneliness overtook her, and headed into King's Cross Station.

**A/N: I have chapter titles! Yay! And disclaimers for them! Even better… but I don't feel like going back and reposting the earlier chapters just so I can put them in. So they're going here. **

**Prologue: "And the blood runs crazy with giant strides"- from Neko Case's "Dirty Knife"**

**Chapter 1: "When the world and I were young, just yesterday"- from the Monkees' "Shades of Gray"**

**Chapter 2: "Her eyes like windows, tricklin' rain"- from Cat Stevens' "Sad Lisa"**

**Chapter 3 (this chapter): "Somedays aren't yours at all, they come and go as if they're someone else's days"- from Regina Spektor's "Somedays"**


	5. Deeper Shade of Blue

Disclaimer: None of it's mine. It's all J.'s, except the title, which is Badly Drawn Boy's, and the chapter title, which is from by

**A/N: I loathe school. A lot. Need I say more? I HATE SCHOOL. And applying to college… and as if the common app essay and various supplements aren't enough, I got selected for National Merit Semi-Finalist. So there is a SLIGHT chance I MIGHT get a scholarship, and in return… that's right. You guessed it. Another essay. But no matter. I have my fanfiction and my wizard rock to distract me- does anyone else subscribe to Wizard Rock EP of the Month Club? I signed up in August and got 9 CDs in the mail the other day. I was SO HAPPY!!! MORE PEEVED!!! And Tonks and the Aurors are excellent too. Well, all of them are excellent. Not sure if Bob Dylan can pull off the Harry and the Potters songs though, even if it is a nice idea… Anyways. Onto the story. Thanks a buttload to ****scarredprincess****, ****Katie-Lyn Della Robia****, ****Red Blade 3****, ****MoreThenLikelyCrazy****, ****LadySelena.16****, ****MrsBlaCKwIfeY****, ****Silver Apocalypse****, ****ShellyHale****, ****Mrs. Azriel RxDJxB Lestrange****, and ****GabreillaTwilightClaryMI****. And everyone who put this on alerts. Y'all keep me going!**

By the time Hermione got to Platform 9 ¾, she was feeling well and truly frazzled. All was chaos, as expected, with first-years huddling by their parents, and everyone else running around madly trying to locate friends and get a cabin on the train. Hermione stood off to one side, looking at the scene in front of her through glassy eyes. She remembered the last time she had been here, leaving after 6th year.

_She had sat with Mandy and Daphne on the train, since the tension between her and Ron was unbearable. Towards the end, other members of the literature class they had taken had filtered in, and by the time the Hogwarts Express rolled into the station, the whole group was sitting there, content and relaxed, looking forward to a summer off. Hermione had known even then it wouldn't be a fun summer, and had stayed quiet while everyone else joked around and discussed where they planned on going. When they left the train, the eleven of them just stood on the platform, slightly unsure of what to do. They had never been together in a setting outside of Hogwarts. Padma had been the first to leave with her parents, waving goodbye to the group over her shoulder. One by one the rest of the group had gone with their parents, until only Hermione and Draco were left. They had come to respect each other's opinions over the past year, but they would probably never be friendly. They made small talk as they waited for their parents to come, but eventually silence set in. When Hermione's parents finally called to say they were waiting outside, it was somewhat of a relief. She made her excuses and made to pick up her trunk, when the strangest thing happened. Draco Malfoy… hugged her. Sure, most of the girls in the class had hugged everyone before they left, but it had always been the girls initiating the hugs. But now, as Hermione's trunk rested against her leg from where she had been about to hoist onto a cart, Draco wrapped his arms softly around her, as if he was unsure of how to hug someone. Hermione's arms, meanwhile, were trapped between them, propping up her trunk. He murmured something in her ear about having a good summer, then let go. Hermione, slightly flustered and barely able to look at him, nodded and muttered back, flashed him a small smile, and headed towards the barrier, to step into the real world, the Muggle world, her parents' world, again. She didn't look back._

Someone's elbow collided with her shoulder, and Hermione was brought rushing back to the real world. She moved slowly towards the train, reluctant to see Harry and Ron, apprehensive about seeing the members of last year's literature class, and dreading socializing with people in general. Instead of trying to find her friends, she headed to the heads' compartment even though she didn't need to be there for another half hour or so. She was also curious as to who the head boy might be. _Anyone but Ron_, she prayed silently. Working with him would make for a very unpleasant year. Instead, she was surprised to see Blaise Zabini already there. He clearly hadn't felt like mingling either.

She wouldn't have picked him as her top choice for Head Boy, but she hadn't discounted him either. He was a solid student, smart and well-respected by his peers. And a Slytherin, but over the course of the past year Hermione had realized that wasn't such a bad thing. They greeted each other cordially, chatted mindlessly about their summers for a few minutes, then fell into a comfortable silence as each read a book until they went to brief the prefects. The two heads were required to patrol the train, and Blaise and Hermione agreed to split up so they could get back to their books quicker. Hermione inwardly sighed in relief- Blaise would be a good partner to work with, and even better, low maintenance. He wouldn't expect, or even want, her to work with him on every detail, or spend all her waking moments toiling to make Hogwarts run smoothly. The trust between them was already implicit.

Hermione set off down the train in a decent mood, she really did. She liked the new Head Boy well enough, she had a good book right now, the new prefects weren't _too_ boisterous, Ron hadn't shown up to the meeting, and she was generally content. She was even in a good mood after passing the trolley lady in the aisle and treating herself to a Pumpkin Pasty.

But the good mood was not to last. Hermione had made it down to one end of the train and was heading back to the Head's compartment to gather her books in anticipation of leaving the train, when she saw Harry further up, heading the same direction as her.

"Harry!" she called, thinking him alone and realizing that even if the summer had held a few uncomfortable chats, the fact was, they had a whole year left together and they were friends, after all.

He turned towards her, and seeing who it was, shook his head with a panicked look on his face before continuing away from her. But it was too late- Ron, who Hermione hadn't noticed, had also seen her. He shot her a venomous glance, mouthing "Bitch" over the heads of several first-years, and turned away. Hermione was really alone, she realized. She leaned against the side of the train, feeling a wave of cold wash over her, and just stayed there for a few minutes, until she was sure they were gone. Then she slowly made her way back to the Head's cabin, where Blaise had already arrived. If he noticed that she was close to tears, he was tactful enough not to mention it, for which Hermione was grateful.

The drive up to school was uneventful. Blaise and Hermione parted ways without speaking, and Hermione ended up in a carriage with Lavender and Parvati. They greeted her enthusiastically, and then talked amongst themselves about the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_, which suited Hermione just fine. She wanted to be alone anyway.

The same with the feast. The sorting passed in a blur, and Hermione spent a subdued meal jammed between a few fifth years and a pair of rather loud and obnoxious third years. She did see Mandy, and they exchanged waves and smiles. Hermione really, really, really hoped that friendship worked out or she might end up having a very lonely year.

Hermione was deep in thought when she heard her name. She heard applause and assumed, correctly, that she had been announced as Head Girl. What she heard next surprised her though- Dumbledore revealed that she and Blaise would be sharing a dorm, as part of improving inter-house unity. It didn't really bother Hermione- Blaise seemed nice enough, and she thought he would probably be as keen to stay out of her way as she would be to stay out of his- but the thought of leaving Gryffindor Tower, her home of six years, saddened her a little. But honestly, with things as they were with Ron- and now Harry, who had apparently sided with Ron- this might be better.

Professor McGonagall brought her and Blaise up to the room after the feast. It was almost exactly halfway between the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms, and the password was "unitas"- "unity" in Latin. "Way to be subtle, Dumbledore," Hermione muttered under her breath, and Blaise snorted.

The heads' common room was gorgeous. The walls were dark paneled wood, where there weren't bookshelves. There were several armchairs and a couch in a rich purple shade, surrounding a roaring fire. Three doors led off from the main room- a bathroom the two of them were to share, and two bedrooms, each with purple décor. Looked like Dumbledore was really outdoing himself with the whole inter-house unity bit, not even representing house colors in the heads' room. The bedrooms were large but not unnecessarily so, and each had a king-size four-poster bed, a desk, and a lovely view of the lake and the Forbidden Forest. The matter of who got which room was settled by the trunks already present in each chamber, presumably brought up by house-elves. Hermione bid Blaise a goodnight and went into her room, where she read until she fell asleep. Classes started tomorrow, and she couldn't wait to finally start learning and _doing_ things again.


End file.
